The Great Pumpkin Strikes Back
by SHADO Commander
Summary: Tricks and treats get way out of hand when Kim strikes out for revenge after a prank of Shego's goes WAY too far... and the other villains get pulled into the line of fire.  Bad Kim.  See the M? VERY BAD KIM! Wait - Trick or Treat! Its BONUS CHAPTER FOUR!
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Yes, another challenge inspired piece, this one based on NoDrogs' question "What would Kim do to scare a villain?" Obviously, I took it a LITTLE further than that… and spun off a bit from one of my own Two Liner Challenge entries as well. This one is M all the way. Legal at bottom. _

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**THE GREAT PUMPKIN STRIKES BACK!**

_A Terrible Tale of Tricks and Treats_

by SHADO Commander

Part 1 (of 3)

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Kim Possible chortled evilly as she contemplated her revenge. While it might strike most people as odd that Kim Possible, the supposedly perfect little Miss Goody Two Shoes, was plotting revenge in the first place, those would be the fortunate people who had never encountered her "Kimness," the ruthless drive to come out on top that had turned a 12 year old girl in braces into one of the world's leading martial artists and superheroes. Those who HAD encountered the Kimness often regretted it, as when Kim TRULY focused on a single goal, she was more akin to a force of nature than a twenty year old girl…

And this year, in this week, on this day, she was focused as she had never been focused before.

It had taken a year of planning, with the vast majority of the time being spent on developing the holographic disguise technology that would allow the mission to go in the direction she intended. Wade had cooperated, partially for the sheer technical challenge, partly out of fear that the seldom exhibited super-genius aptitude Kim shared for science and electronics with her brothers would come to the fore and he'd suddenly no longer be needed, but mainly because his own moral compass had never been particularly directional. He was a hacker, after all, and in the time in which it took to argue about whether something was legal, he was more prone to have simply done it and then covered up his tracks than get into a verbal contest.

Ron, on the other hand, had said 'No Way!' and with Ron, so went Rufus. A shame, as the Mole rat would have been damned useful given the stealth required for some parts of the plan, but to coerce Ron would have entailed explaining a bit more, and the one thing that Kim was absolutely, never, ever, NOT in a BILLION years doing was explaining why she wanted revenge in the first place. That was something between her and the soon to be doomed invitees to her party from hell, with her own girlfriend taking the place of honor at the top of the list.

As noted, most people would be shocked to think of Kim Possible doing anything that wasn't lily white and crystal pure, but that would be because those people didn't know that for nearly two years now she'd secretly been doing something green and shady… since not long after she and a certain female villain had bonded; first while fighting off the Lowardians and later helping Kim get over the breakup of her relationship with Ron. Those same people would probably have been even more shocked to learn that a good part of Kim and Shego's relationship was based on consensual bondage and S&M… the same thing, as it happened, that had partially led to her breakup with Ron, who despite his Jewish heritage and magical monkey leanings had an obdurate and inflexible preference for straight missionary work.

But that was neither here nor there at the moment. Suffice it to say that Kim's best friend had remained her best friend, but he'd simply been unable to cope with the fact that her alpha tendencies had turned out to extend to exerting dominance in ways he'd never anticipated. With Shego, however, Kim had already had a long history of bashing the heck out of each other for fun, and with Ron out of the picture it hadn't taken much goading for that to progress to the next level. And then the level after that. And then, well… that had perhaps inevitably led to the incident that had prompted Kim's current plan.

Specifically: One year ago, the secret nature of Kim's relationship with 'reformed mercenary and professional security system evaluator Shego,' had been played brilliantly by Kim's current sexual partner when, after a particularly wild session in which Kim had duly taken her turn as the sub, instead of freeing her, Shego had instead donned an Elvira costume, then wheeled the naked, spread-eagled, black leather strapped and ball-gagged hero out into a large area where a huge party for Drakken's henchman and a number of fellow villains was taking place. She'd promised to bring a pumpkin for the centerpiece, it seemed.

Mortified but unable to do anything due to the bonds that she'd allowed Shego to put on her herself, Kim had spent the entire evening as the party centerpiece, canted at an angle so that everyone could see 'the Great Pumpkin's Crack o' Lantern,' which as the name implied, meant that Kim had had a lit candle in a place where no lit candle had ought to be. It had been the single most mortifying and humiliating experience of Kim's entire life… even if she had actually got off on it, just a wee bit… and the only reason she and Shego hadn't finally found out who would really win in a no holds battle to the death was that the green woman had had the foresight to install both EMP and Hypno cannons covering all the exits and had shielded the entire lair to prevent any cel or radio transmissions in or out. As such any phones or cameras that might have surreptitiously taken pictures of Kim as the Pumpkin had been empty or cleared of recording media before anyone left, while everyone who had been there retroactive found themselves with the memory of Shego making a rude presentation of some of Mrs. Lipsky's worst baby photos instead, so Kim's ultimate embarrassment currently lived on only in the filthy mind of Shego and her own. It had been a monstrously evil prank, but one that had been brilliantly conceived and carried out.

And as for Kim and Shego? It had taken six days of continuous tongue work and Shego's agreement to be lead around on all fours wearing nothing but a dog collar with a pink tag reading "Kimmie's Bitch" for a week, including a rather memorable tour around the grounds of the Global Justice building where they had almost been caught, before Kim had finally 'forgiven' her… but in the end both knew that they were never going to be able to find anyone else capable of satisfying their extreme mutual interests.

Which didn't mean, of course, that Kim hadn't still immediately started drafting the blueprints for the moment of her own ultimate payback. And even though the other villains might not remember NOW… and yes, she'd tested and was quite sure they didn't… that didn't mean SHE didn't remember some of the things that had been said, and Kim Possible was rather prone to carrying a grudge. So they were about to find themselves targets as well, the Kimness demanded it. Now, though, at last, the research was over, the planning was final, the seeds had been planted, the traps had been set, the mischief was afoot and so was Kim Possible as she sped on her way, delivering some very special packages filled with the finest, hand-picked retribution.

Had the world known, it would have been trembling. Instead, unsuspecting, it slept on, waiting to wake to what it thought would be just another day before Halloween… a day that, had they been wary, they might have recalled was often called Devil's Night.

And this year it would be a Devil named Kim Possible.

She had set forth as soon as the clock back in Middleton had slipped past the witching hour. As her personal mini/hyper/sub-orbital/jump/submarine/jet , which she and Wade normally abbreviated into simply the Slash Jet, sped from the breaking day on the other side of the Atlantic, Kim pulled up her schedule on one screen of the Kimmunicator and called up the first of the dozens of hidden video transmitters she'd been planting all week on the other. The one sad fact about her plan was there were only so many hours in a day and given that her targets were all over the world, she'd have to be satisfied with recorded versions of her victim's reactions. On the other hand, once they were committed to data storage, they'd be there for her repeat viewing pleasure whenever she had the whim.

The trip to England had been to pay a visit to Lord Montgomery Fiske, who had never felt the tranquilizer dart that hit him in the neck while he slept. His cadre of guard monkeys had been taken out by the simple expedient of a drifting balloon with a piece of cloth soaked in the smell of baboons in heat dangling from its string, which she had let the wind carry through his castle courtyard and out again, where it was pursued by Fiske's entire defensive force as it frantically attempted to 'get some."

As for Lord Fiske, what he 'got' was considerably more than he'd ever wanted. Waking up when the ringing phone jarred him out of a terrible sleep with what appeared to be an even worse hangover, he was shocked to find himself in a hotel room at what was obviously a VERY fancy hotel.

"GAH!" He screamed, but the only response was the continued ringing of the phone, the aural assault of which was such that he couldn't not answer it.

"YE… yes?" He whispered through his throbbing skull.

"Good morning Mister Fiske, this is room service. You asked for us to call before delivering breakfast for you and the missus?"

"I what?" Monkey Fist blinked like a goosed gibbon. "The what?"

"The Newlywed Morning After breakfa…"

Whatever else the person had to say was lost as Fiske finally heard the shower running, dropped the phone like it was made of red hot pig iron and shot out of the outrageously huge rotating bed like said pig iron had been slipped up his backside. His eyes quickly took in the empty champagne bottle on the stand next to the dresser, the… the obviously USED condoms spread across the floor and, in one notable case, hanging from a lamp, and the very, very LARGE articles of female clothing scattered along with his. The preposterously large panties with the DNA monogram… and oh dear Lord… HE RECOGNIZED THEM BY THEIR SCENT!

The city of Las Vegas marriage certificate was really rather redundant.

With a scream, Monkey Fist leaped out the nearest window, not bothering to open it, let alone put on a single stitch of clothing. It was only after he had plummeted approximately five stories that he noticed that he wasn't in Las Vegas at all, but rather a rather chic section of London where he often did business. Fortunately, there was still a large pool beneath him, but after falling twelve stories, even water was rather hard to take as he did the worst bellyflop in British Recorded History.

Cackling like a madwoman, Kim turned off the vocoder that made her voice sound like a young man's and switched off the video feed. That had been one of the trickiest pranks to set up, partially because it depended on her getting to Amy's lab with enough time to make the transatlantic hop and back. And speaking of Amy…

Kim flipped to the video feed of Amy's infamous Cuddlebuddy vault. Supposedly as impenetrable as that of her arch-rival in collection, Mr. Paisley, Kim had found it just about as challenging… which was to say: not so much. Now, summoned by the clanging klaxon alarm that Kim had just set off via remote control, a bleary eyed DNAmy staggered down the stairs to the underground bunker and entered the preposterously long entry code while performing both the fingerprint and retinal scans. Once that torturous process was done, however, it took her only a few more seconds to actually throw open the massive vault door and switch on the light.

Amy screamed like the damned.

Every single cuddlebuddy in her collection was gone. And worse than that, not only were they missing, but they'd all been replaced.

And what stared back at her, with their evil satanic eyes, were one thousand, two hundred and thirty three Major League Baseball Bobblehead figures.

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_**Legal stuff!:**__ Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Rufus, Shego, Dr. Drakken,Monkey Fist, the Monkey Ninjas, Cuddlebuddies and DNAmy are all borrowed from the wonderful KP Universe, are the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and are trademarks of the Disney media organizations. All use should be considered fair under current parody law, and is not for profit in any case. This story takes place at a time at which all characters shown should be considered to be over the legal age of 18. Also, it's probably not a good idea to stick a lit candle between your legs. Kim and Shego are professionals, do not attempt this stunt at home. _


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Yes, it only goes down hill from here… if you're a villain, that is.. Legal at bottom. _

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**THE GREAT PUMPKIN STRIKES BACK**

by SHADO Commander

Part 2 (of 3)

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"Yes Will?" Doctor Director scowled, the concerned lines creasing Will Du's face and the early hour making it pointless to ask if there was a problem.

"Ma'am, I think the problem we've been concerned about may have arisen," the narrow-faced Asian man replied with lean efficiency, doing his best not to look at his video feed. The communications terminal stationed in the small apartment on the GJ campus that Dr. Director called home was state of the art, but the lens coverage was a bit too wide for his comfort at the moment, especially given his boss' preference in sleeping attire. Were it not for the missing eye, Betty Director could have made an excellent living as an underwear model. Had she ever chosen to wear any underwear. Or anything else for that matter when not actually on duty. If only the chance of actually scoring with her had been even remotely…

"Possible?" the Doctor asked, reaching over and toggling her camera unit up just a hair so she could have a virtual eye to eye conversation with her Number 2. They'd had their eye on the redhead's all too squeaky clean behind for a while now… and the girl's behavior for the last several weeks had been suspiciously non-suspicious. Suspecting something where others wouldn't even have suspicions, Du had stopped by Stoppable's place for a quick pit stop six days ago and attempted to start up a conversation. It had been a total non-starter and Du had come away with little to digest… perhaps a canapé, and that flavored of cheese… but the young man had obviously been agitated about something, a concern that seemed to resonate in the pink mole rat that was the third member of Kim's field team.

Of course Kim's other major partner, the enigmatic young hacker Wade Load, was never available for comment at all given that Global Justice had never actually been able to physically locate him. There were some in GJ who suspected that he didn't actually exist and was, in fact, an AI himself, the offshoot of a renegade program called 'Mother' that had escaped from the development labs of the ultra-secret Weyland-Yutani company, which had recently cornered the market on faux-alligator handbags.

"It could be," Du responded to her initial query. "About fifty minutes ago, DNAmy contacted the McHenry Laser Grid company and reported that someone had penetrated their latest model and stolen her entire collection of Cuddlebuddies. On arriving, the security teams found that said stuffed animals had actually been moved to one of Amy's lingerie closets… but that someone had definitely penetrated the grid and left… I'm still waiting on clarification on this, but something about 500 Barry Bonds, 400 Alex Rodriguezes, 200 Roy Hallidays, 100 Randy Johnsons, 30 Pedro Martinez and 3 Mike Schmidts. At the same time, Monkey Fist was sighted by multiple sources running naked through the streets of London screaming 'I'm not married!' at the top of his lungs and laughing hysterically. There's also some very bizarre stuff about a Monkey orgy in Picadilly Circus that may be related."

"And Possible herself?"

"Last seen at approximately 8 PM yesterday and then dropped out of sight."

Dr. Director sighed. Ever since first encountering Kim Possible, the one thing that she had feared most was that the young vigilante would take a turn to the dark side. It was, after all, the path that a similar young heroine named Shego had taken five years earlier. Once the two had become an 'item,' she'd wondered who would influence who more, and it appeared that the dark side of the force was offering better cookies. Speaking of which…

"Okay, get surveillance teams out there and stake out Possible's family home and apartment, and also Shego's last known residence. Maybe we can nip this while it's in the bud."

"Yes ma'am," Du snapped to his feet and attention… revealing that his attitude wasn't the only thing that was alert. "Should I also issue an express Bureau-wide Transmission to inform all department heads of a Developing Emergency Watch?"

"Just go on and do it," Betty sighed, not liking where this was likely to end but knowing that, whatever it was, she was going just have to go on and do it, DEW it and send Du at it til she was satisfied.

"Send the full B.T. Express."

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Meanwhile, the mayhem continued. As the sun rose in the city of Upperton, Dr. (honorary) Drew Lipskey woke up to the dawn after the first rays of morning shone through the windows of the secret safe house where he was staying.

THAT he thought, was extremely odd, as he was absolutely certain that he had left the curtains closed and the day blinds pulled shut. He'd never been a big fan of bright light anyway, mostly having to do with an especially traumatic screening of Gremlins in his youth, but he'd taken to spending as much time as he could in near darkness as a result of the increased photosensitivity his blue skin had developed as a result of the massive batteries of chemicals that had been required to purge himself of the vine infection he'd incurred just prior to the Lowardian invasion. Although incredibly useful, it had quickly become apparent that the Kudzu like plants were depleting his system of vital minerals and resources faster than he could ever have physically replaced them, so he'd had his favorite vine "Audrey" surgically harvested and placed in a small flower pot and he'd Agent Oranged himself with a secret recipe of eleven herbicides and spices before he could chicken out.

What was also odd was that he wasn't tucked all nice and snugly under his covers, as the cool morning air was definitely…

And then Drakken stopped thinking and started screaming.

Laughing like a lunatic, Kim kept the video feed running up in the corner of her screen as the blue man tore, naked, out of his room in desperate search of scissors, a REAL doctor and a botanist. It had SO been worth the admittedly loathsome chore of sneaking into his secure room, extracting his floppy blue member from his Snowman Hank PJs, and super gluing the STD Florist's 'Thinking of You" bouquet of one dozen mixed light orange and orange spray roses, ten hot pink carnations and an assortment of Matsumoto asters and red miniature carnations lilies so that they would appear to have all sprouted from the head and shaft of his winkie.

Thank goodness she was recording all this, as otherwise it would have been a difficult choice between watching this ongoing fit-com and turning back to her New York feed… the dual screen mode on the Kimmunicator she was carrying as she slunk up the alley simply not having the real estate for the ideal presentation. On the other hand, while she'd seen the first half of this next 'show' earlier and had nearly peed her own pants then, she'd set it up with a major double punch-line that she simply couldn't miss.

"I'm sorry Mr. Lipsky," the emergency room doctor told the large weeping man who was STILL holding the remains of what had obviously been a rather impressive head of hair in his hands, "But we've just received the analysis from our lab and the good news is that it wasn't radiation and that your hair probably WILL grow back, as long as you avoid the agents that caused the allergic reaction."

The doctor was quite distraught when the man went into what seemed like a Grand Mal Seizure on being informed that his allergy appeared to be to gasoline and motor oil.

"Beautiful," Kim sighed. "Great work on hacking into that hospital system so quickly, Wade."

"Actually," Wade admitted, from his little window on the view screen, "I took a short cut and hacked into every single Hospital, emergency clinic and doctor's office in New York. I just hope that quick regrow formula you doused his head with really works."

"He should have peachfuzz by noon and enough for a crew cut by this evening," Kim confirmed… the formula had been proven to work except for one rather spectacularly bad side effect… making all the existing hair fall out first. "Of course, I may have been a bad girl and not applied it everywhere."

Wade's eyes widened. "Oh Kim, you didn't…?"

"He needs to get with the times," Kim giggled, the sparkles in her cat-like green eyes dancing as if playing with a small and panicked rodent. "And if he REALLY wants to grow the mullet back, he'll just have to wait for nature to take its course."

"Man, you really are giving Shego a run for her money," Wade shook his head. "Speaking of whom…"

"All in good time," Kim grinned, showing more fangy teeth than seemed possible in a human head as she took up her 'shooting' position outside the magazine company. "I'm still savoring the warm up acts. And on that note, how's Duff coming along?"

"See for yourself," her tech guru replied with an equally Grinch-like expression, switching his part of the screen to a feed from New Jersey.

Duff Killigan was panting and sweating like a pig… no, like a dozen pigs at a screening of the meat-packing industry portion of Fast Food Nation. This was a nightmare! A nightmare! For YEARS he'd dreamed of playing the course at Pine Valley, recognized by many as THE best golf course in the world. But always, ALWAYS, something had prevented him from realizing that dream. Mostly having to do with being an internationally wanted criminal, but even the fake names he'd submitted had been turned down. It was a VERY exclusive club.

Then, just a few days ago, an application he'd turned in under the pseudonym "Iva Gottabigwood," had been approved for a tee-off time! He'd been in heaven, and shortly thereafter in New Jersey, where.. after quintuple checking to make sure it wasn't a Global Justice set-up… he'd hired a local company that mainly shot wedding videos to record his ultimate game as he played in his famous Killigan kilt… so that he could prove, retroactively, that he had actually played the course, of course.

Except NOTHING had gone right. He was playing the most scunnery, shitey cloot game of his life, on what was probably his only chance to play this legendary course, and every single hole dug him deeper up the anus. His own film crew were now laughing so hard he could barely focus, and when, on his TENTH shot at the Fifth hole (acknowledged as one of the hardest par threes in the world) his shot somehow inexplicably rebounded off a tree and boomeranged back to hit him in the groin he could only lie there, scuddered and groaning in agony.

Until he saw the man taking a picture of him.

"Ey, waddew ye think… gasp… ye be doing… pant… ya scaffy Galoot?"

"Oh, um… just shooting a still to go with the video," the man stammered.

"Stills? I didna pay no one to…"

And that's when Duff noticed that his 'video crew' had been expanded by a least a factor of twenty as dozens of "World's Silliest Home Video' wannabes had joined his entourage, as well as what appeared to be a fully professional Hollywood team lead by a very, very short man who was laughing hysterically.

"Keep shooting, keep shooting!" famed golf comedian Dorf yelled. "I can't make up shit this funny!"

"No kidding," said the reporter for Golf Today magazine next to him. "The only thing I can't make up my mind is whether this the perfect image for our upcoming cover story on how NOT to play golf, or if we should just go with a cover reading 'Worst Golfer in The World!'"

"Oops! And it looks like that remote sensor you put on him just paid off," Wade informed Kim. "I'm showing signs that while Duff hasn't just gone into cardiac arrest, he certainly THINKS he is. However, I've already called an ambulance and they're just a few minutes away, so he'll make it just fine, imagined heart attack or not."

"Might have something to do with the two part nerve agent," Kim managed to eek out between gasps of non-breathing. "He got half of it as an aerosol in the 'convenient' taxi he took over to the course, and the other half in the spray his clubs and balls received while in the trunk. I didn't even have to use the fallback disguise for the caddy-shack… not that he would have known that was me either. These new holographic disguises are just amazing."

"It's just a matter of trans-positioning tracking points, a state of the art micro-holo projector and throwing enough number crunching power at it," Wade nodded like a proud papa. "But I have to admit that that idea you had of adding the tactile distortion field was brilliant Kim. I tried it out on myself and it FELT one hundred percent real. But remember, with the tactiles on the battery will only be good for about an hour and a half."

"Which is why I have a half dozen of them," Kim agreed, "And why I'm waiting until Shego's usual waking time to… Oh wait, be right back at you. I see Camille Leon coming up now."

Camille was of two minds as she approached the famous publishing company. Certainly she could see why a magazine would want their world famous mascot to make an appearance, but the money they were paying her to do it was crazy. Then again, that's kind of what the magazine's name implied, and it was an INSANE amount of money. Which was why she was already wearing the trademark black suit, white shirt and red ribbon tie.

Money talks, and Camille was all about the money.

So, just as she hit the front steps she focused and carefully rearranged her face into the almost physically impossible configuration and reshaped her normally svelte form into the gawky male body required.

And in the aftermath of all that muscle stretching, she never even noticed the tiny 'twing' as the micro dart that Kim fired at her from the cover on an alley made a perfect bullseye on the back of her neck.

Five minutes later, Camille was furious as she discovered that, in fact, the publishing company was NOT having an anniversary, was NOT having a party and was certainly NOT hiring someone to impersonate their mascot, ABSOLUTELY NOT for that kind of money.

"What do you thing we are, lunatics?" The publisher asked of her when she finally made her way up the chain of command to the head honcho. "Only someone who was out of their mind would pay that!"

"Well you are fucking MAD magazine!" Camille yelled.

But is was only half as loud as she yelled and a billionth as frustrated as she became when she realized that she couldn't UN-shift herself from the likeness of Alfred E. Neuman.

And since she'd never even noticed the dart, she had no idea that the realization of her worst nightmare was the direct result of a super-specialized toxin Global Justice's researchers had been developing from Botox as a way of keeping Camille from swapping identities with other prisoners, should they ever be fortunate enough to catch the shape-shifter again. Which was why MAD magazine was forced to call the police to remove the madman running berserk through their office, something that was altered on the police blotter once 'he' was processed at the station and revealed to be a 'she.' Not that it mattered, because nobody, not even the drunkest and most deranged detainee in the holding tank was likely to 'hit' what everyone agreed was the single ugliest woman they had ever seen.

In truth, of course, the effects of this early version of the formula would wear off in about ten hours… but there was no way for Camille to know that. And Kim had no intention of telling her.

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_**Legal stuff:**__ Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Rufus, Shego, Dr. Drakken, Dr. Director, Will Du, Monkey Fist, the Monkey Ninjas, Cuddlebuddies, DNAmy, Motor Ed, Camille Leon, Duff Killigan are all borrowed from the wonderful KP Universe, are the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and are trademarks of the Disney media organizations. Lyrics for "DO IT (Till You're Satisfied) written by Billy Nichols and performed by B.T. Express, property of Scepter Records (don't know the tune - the link is on my profile page __) MAD Magazine and Alfred E. Neuman, originally published by EC Comics, now distributed by DC Comics, a division of TimeWarner Entertainment. Character of Dorf and DORF ON GOLF created by Tim Conway. All use should be considered fair under current parody law, and is not for profit in any case. This story takes place at a time at which all characters shown should be considered to be over the legal age of 18. _


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: AND DONE! Thanks to NoDrogs for the initial challenge, everyone here and on the Haven who gave feedback during the ridiculously quick gestation period, and the Pumpkin Growers Of America. Legal at bottom. _

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**THE GREAT PUMPKIN STRIKES BACK**

by SHADO Commander

Part 3 (of 3)

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"It's getting worse," Will Du told his commander as the woman entered the central command center know as the Triple D… for Dr. Director's Danger-room. Thankfully, she was now wearing clothes, as there had been times when she'd been in an especial hurry and had shown up wearing nothing but her eye patch. Today she'd apparently even squandered a few seconds to pick up her preferred breakfast, a box of three 12 inch kielbasa sandwiches from the official Global Justice Mobilized Weiner Response Unit, aka the Hot Dog cart. "Villains are going down like flies, let me show you the..."

"Just give me the oral version of how they're going down," Betty waved off Will's proffered uTablet as she slid the first six inches of the first foot long sausage into her mouth without a hint of a gag reflex, snapping the weenie neatly in half with her pearly white teeth. "I'll get down to the nuts and bolts later if I have time."

"Right…" Will drawled, watching with fascination as the second half of the first red hot followed the same path as the first, with Betty's tongue providing rear guard clean up as the long pink muscle swept her port of entry for stragglers. "First, the police DNA sample indicates that that IS Camille Leon they have in custody, so that's one villain we don't have to worry about. On the other hand, we know that Drakken and Killigan have both popped up on the radar again under VERY strange circumstances. Then, just five minutes ago… and forgive me, but this really is something better told visually…"

Betty choked, something the first footlong had completely failed to achieve.

"Is that…?"

"Yes," Will confirmed.

"THERE?"

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"WHAT?" Frugal Lucre went as white as a sheet. "Someone hacked into my ThriftSaver CD account and transferred all the funds into a checking account where I not only don't get interest, but I have to pay a fee EVERY time I check my balance? And then paid EXTRA for custom checks with KITTIES on them and a faux tigerskin binder?"

The world's cheapest villain's face twitched in torment. "That's… that's… AUGH! How could it get any WORSE?"

"Like this," his accountant, Luke Kost continued grimly. "That same person also used your banking information to open an account in YOUR name at Neiman Marcus and spent $600 on a single tube of chapstick."

"GURK!" Lucre gurked.

"At six different stores."

"GURK! GURK!" Lucre gurked squared.

"On a card with twenty three percent interest with no grace period."

"gub bugug gugbbubub ub ubbbuhhhhh…" Lucre frothed.

"And, when we learned that one of the store's security cameras took a picture of the 'culprit,'"the accountant turned his monitor around to reveal the perfect image of… Lucre himself. "There's not a way in hell we're going to get those fees waived."

"EeeeeEeeeeiiioooooooo…" Lucre may have attempted a verse from Old McDonald or may have simply moaned in pain.

"In fact," Mr. Kost continued, "This was just the sort of red flag we needed to do a little more in depth analysis of your accounting practices, Mr. Lucre. We had no issue with you being a supervillain, but we were surprised to learn that we were the third accounting firm you've used this year alone… all of which, like this one, were running "First three month's free trial packages."

"eep!" Lucre made an 'oh shit' sound.

"In fact, Frugal… may I call you that? This blatant little attempt at pretended financial fraud is exactly the sort of thing that violates the terms of your first three month's free trial." The accountants face grew quite stony. "So I'm going to give you a choice. You can sign up for our Deluxe Accounting Package with a minimum three year plan, you can pay for the two and a half months you've already had at the full regular amount and continue the plan for SIX years or…"  
Mr. Kost paused dramatically.

"We can freeze all your financial accounts immediately and turn both them and you over to the law. I'll give you a few minutes to think that over, all right?"

In mortal agony, Lucre collapsed to the floor, not caring that his budget minded accountant hadn't had the carpet cleaned since sometime during the first Gulf War. The remnants of cigarette butts and the various God-awfulnesses that people had tracked in on their shoes only seemed like appropriate ashes to wear as sackcloth as he grieved for the burning of his financial house.

"the horror…" he muttered weakly, remaining there through Mr. Kost's next three appointments, "the horror…"

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"And not only did no one suspect that I wasn't Lucre in those stores, but I came out of the deal with six chapsticks," Kim gloated. "Which is good, because this next set is going to be a doozy."

Senor Senior Senior looked over the edge of his teacup with interest. It was rare that he actually saw his son this early in the day, the fruit of his loins seldom rising and greeting the sun until well into the post meridian, let alone blossoming before noon. Today, however, Junior seemed alert and in rather good spirits… almost perched on the edge of his seat, so to speak.

_"Oh, yes," _Triple S remembered, cursing the forgetfulness that comes with age, _"He has that interview with that magazine for teenagers. No doubt he wishes to remind me of that." _

So, as a doting father… not to mention the man who had sunk millions and millions of dollars into Junior's 'music career,' something that was doubly expensive given that he not only paid for the production of Junior's CDs, but also purchased almost all of them as well through a variety of paid stooges, and had recently been hit with a huge environmental impact fine due to his practice of dumping the horrid things into a section of water off their island that turned out to have an endangered reef… he decided he would once again humor his son.

Once he finished his tea.

"Now then Junior," Senior asked as he set down his finally drained cup. "I believe you had something that you wished to speak of to me?"

"Actually this is true Father," SSJ replied, "In fact, it is something that I've been meaning to say for some time, but I cannot think of a better time than this, the occasion of my first interview with a major magazine and proof that my musical career is truly taking root with the flower of America's fertile soil."

The elder Senior paused. It was NOT the magazine article of which his child wished to boast?

"In that case, please do inform me," the elder replied to the younger. "I must admit, your timing has me quite intrigued."

"Oh, timing is everything father," Junior replied with a sly smile. "For what better time than after you have had a cup of that nasty tea of which you are so fond, to tell you that I am, in fact, much eviler than you have suspected all this time. However, I've been waiting for a certain combination of events… the success of my musical career, until I was old enough to actually access the money I'll inherit from you without having to go through the intermediary of a guardian, which was last month, if you will recall, and for you to finish drinking your last cup of tea."

Triple S's jaw dropped open in shock, but it was quickly closed again as his suddenly numb body was no longer able to support itself and his face slammed down onto the table.

And the last thing he heard was...

"Tell me father, did the bitter taste of your Earl Grey truly completely cover the flavor of the fast acting poison I slipped into your cup? If so, I must remember to compliment the pharmacologist at Henchco for his excellent recommendation."

"Wow! Did you see his face before that knockout drug took effect?" Kim giggled, the holographic disguise of the younger Senior fading from around her as she hopped back in the camouflaged Slash Jet. "It was almost as good as Junior's was when the reporter from Bikini Floss Magazine asked him who was his biggest musical inspiration as America's new top parody song artist… Weird Al Yankovic, Ray Stevens or Doctor Demento?"

"Yeah," Wade beamed, "Though I have to say, the highlight to me was the way Junior's lip started trembling when you talked about the way how you and all your friends in the music industry would sit around listening to his records, laughing and laughing at the brilliance of how bad they were. Oh, and when you complimented him on the way he maintained that silly voice all the time, just like Borat… I bet he's still in that bathroom, bawling his eyes out."

"Well of course he is," Kim snickered. "I lipstick lasered the door shut, remember? I couldn't have the real Junior accidentally walking in while I was playing Triple S. And come to think of it, he'll probably be glad he's locked in, once his father realizes that the way we finally found their top secret island is because Junior sent coordinates to 'Bikini Floss Magazine' so that reporter 'Livia Toonz' could interview him 'in his crib.'"

"Speaking of cribs," Wade interjected, "I believe the main event is approaching."

"Indeed it is," Kim practically glowed, as she switched the vocoder on her helmet mike on and slid the dial over to a setting that said…

######################################D

"Dr. Drakken?" Betty asked again.

"No, ma'am," Will replied stoically, trying to ignore Dr. Director's more leisurely consumption of her second Kielbasa, a process that seemed to consist of licking the grease oozing out of one end of the meaty portion, then slowly tugging it out of the enveloping bun with her teeth. "After that 'incident' no one's seen hide nor hair of him… which judging from the photos might not be such a bad thing, except for the troubling fact that some of reserves that were still in the bank accounts from his villain days that he didn't know we were aware of have disappeared."

"Hmmm…." Dr. Director nodded, polishing off her second foot long and reaching for the third. "And Killigan as well?"

"All of them," Will frowned. "Even Frugal Lucre seems to be liquidating personal assets, which seems incredibly ominous."

"I agree," Betty sighed, discarding all the bread from her last hot dog except for a tiny chunk she used as a 'handle' and holding the wiggling weenie up to her mouth, where she contemplated it with a strange expression. "Damn."

"Ma'am?" Will asked tremulously.

"Oh, it's just that as I know I put too many of these in my mouth. They're absolutely terrible for me, but I just can't get enough of them…" Betty shrugged. "The weird part is that, for some reason, only the foot longs do it for me."

And another tiny piece of Will Du died inside, knowing that there were some things that would just never measure up to expectations.

"And I guess we're going to have to put out an Omega Sanction," Dr. Director added. "Orders for apprehension on sight, all uses of force authorized."

"On which villains, Ma'am?" Du requested.

"When you have a problem, you cut it off at the head." Dr. Director replied frostily, biting the top off the last wiener with a savage snap. "Put the sanction on Kim Possible."

####################################D####################################D

"But Father! Why are you trying to kill me?" Junior screamed, taking the couches in the main living area like hurdles on a track course. He had only just managed to get out of the bathroom with the inexplicably sticky doors when his papa had come roaring around the corner swinging his cane with the hidden sword point extended with the obvious intent of making a Junior S-kabob.

"Because you have made me very proud my son!" Triple SSS yelled back, taking the simpler route of jumping on the nearest chair, leaping for the chandelier and swinging across the room while brandishing his cane like a polo mallet. "Now hold still so that I may beat your head in!"

"AIeeeee!" Junior squealed like wounded javalina and dodged out the back door past the hot tubs and in the direction of the main pool.

"Of course!" The elder senior gasped as he swung out into empty space, breaking his fall with the pool cabana that collapsed underneath him like an airbag. "You must have a boat waiting to escape in the secret cove!"

"I do?" Junior bleated, then realized with a sudden shock that there, in fact, WAS a secret boat down there, though it was actually the one he used for sneaking off the island in order to indulge his passion with his sweet Bonita after his father had turned a disapproving eye on what he considered to be an obvious gold digger. Well, to be honest, Junior knew she was a gold digger as well, but he had run the numbers and figured out that buying Bonnie a nice dinner and flowers twice a week had proven to be much cheaper than the hookers he'd been using to service the same basic needs, thus giving him far more bang for the buck. All of which was beside the point if he couldn't make it to the hidden boat far enough ahead of his Papa to make anchor and escape. Fortunately, it seemed that while his father was a much better athlete than Junior, the older man seemed a bit under the weather today and the younger senior did have longer legs.

"I am sorry Papa, but I shall e-mail you once you are thinking more rationally!" The would-be latin heart throb sang back over his shoulder.

"I sincerely doubt that, my most admirable foe," Triple S yelled back in pleasure. "For though you have played this round well, I shall now be unleashing the hounds… and in the event that you survive the Laser Weimaraners of Death, I shall also be cutting off your e-mail account and allowance!"

Junior screamed in horror again, but never stopped running. Cut off his ALLOWANCE? Would this nightmare never end?

But for others… the nightmare had yet to start…

####################################D

Shego was still lying in bed when the phone rang. That was no surprise, as she seldom got out of bed before noon unless she had company… and if she had certain red-haired company, she often didn't get out of bed at all. Except maybe to swap out 'accessories.'

_"Who woulda thunk it?" _She marveled, still amazed after all this time that the one person who could make her plasma powered clock tick had turned out to be right under her nose all along. Then again, wasn't that how it always ended with super-villains… seduced first to evil and then back again by a really good servicing in the plumbing department? Batman and Catwoman, Buffy and Spike, James Bond and Pussy Galore…

And speaking of Pussy Galore, where the hell WAS Kim? Shego hadn't seen her favorite sparring partner since that quick hook up for a spike-heeled booty call yesterday afternoon, and the green woman was getting itchy. So where was the little minx who always left her back properly covered in scratches?

_'Well you know,' a little voice in Shego's head spoke up, 'That MIGHT be her on the phone if you ever answered it."_

Oh. Right. Shego had spent so many years ignoring Drakken's diatribes that she could now actually ignore a machine gun being fired next to her ear. Mere trifles like phones she could ignore at will, but if it might be Kim…

Except it wasn't.

"Shegooooo…" Damn, it was Drakken! Of all the people she didn't want to hear from when she was developing some nice toasty thoughts of hot buttered Princess buns, but she did still technically work for the half-baked blueberry nut roll on a part time basis. Damned unbreakable contracts.

"Yeah, what is it Doc?" She sighed, sitting up in bed since her morning… correction, her afternoon, of lounging in bed and thinking impure thoughts had now been sullied.

"Er, now don't take this the wrong way," the indigo imbecile's voice wavered weasely, "But have you been feeling… strange lately?"

"No, I feel fi…" And then suspicion hit her. "Hold on, is there a REASON I wouldn't be feeling fine?"

"Um… no?"

"Doc…" Shego growled, the receiver of the phone starting to smoke in her clenching hand.

"Okayokayokay!" Drakken stammered, stumbling out of the blocks but slowly picking up steam as his tone got higher and his words came faster. "It's possible that there just MAY have been a SLIGHT problem with a retrovirus the last time you were here, but the chances of any exposure were miniscule and if you HAD been affected, you would have noticed the effects already so obviouslyyou'refinegoodbye!"

"What the… Doc?" Shego barked. "Doc!"

But he was gone, obviously.

Well that was a hell of a change of tune, from warm thoughts of pumpkin pie to blue notes from the cerulean psychopath in about a minute flat.

About the only thing that might save the day at this point would be breakfast. Preferably a little redhead on the half-shelf with a maraschino cherry in her navel. But first…

Staggering to her feet, Shego wandered naked into her bathroom, which would probably be called a private spa in anyone else's apartment… but given that Shego had actually bought the place next door and turned half of it into a spa and the other half into an upstairs dungeon, this room, opulent as it was, was still just a bathroom.

She got as far as the sink.

Stopped.

Stared.

And almost lost control of the bladder she'd been about to relieve.

She didn't scream. She COULDN'T.

Not if it meant seeing THAT screaming in response. Because that would confirm that it was real. And that horrendous, hideous, monstrous monstrosity couldn't be real.

On the edge of gibbering, her hands went to her face, clawing at the flesh…

Which only served to prove that it wasn't a mask.

Slamming on the sink faucets so hard they snapped off and scrubbing with soap, water, even the damn toilet brush, did no better. In desperation she even flared up her plasma, and ran her burning fingers at a temperature that would have left anyone else with third degree burns…

And only proved that it wasn't make up. It was… It was…

Hyperventilating, she fell back against the wall, tears of horror flowing down her cheeks and, finally, the scream of the damned that had been building erupted raw and naked from the bowels of her soul:

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!"

From the base of the neck down she was still Shego.

But from the base of the neck up…

Oh God, she knew that horrible face all too well!

It was the face of Drakken's mother, Mrs. Lipsky.

Watching through one of the dozen mini-cams she'd secreted around the green woman's apartment over the last few days, Kim laughed so hard that she actually DID pee herself. And almost did so again the first three times she watched the video in playback. Watching Jack Hench's face as he received the notice of the formation of Henchmen's Local 101… not a fake at all, but something that she'd actually set up for real via a series of clandestine meetings… was barely worth a snicker in comparison. Having returned to her own private apartment to change, she'd indulged herself in watching Shego's slam a dozen more times and, having only one clean mission uniform left, was now dancing around in her underwear while playing an ancient disco tune on the stereo as she alternated views on her large TV between takes of Shego's total freak out and the pranks she'd played on the other villains.

_Go on and do it, do it, __  
__Do it 'til you're satisfied, __  
__Whatever it is, do it, __  
__Do it 'til you're satisfied._

And she had. She'd let Shego's torment stretch out a whole 20 minutes before showing mercy. Oh, she COULD have let it go on a lot longer, like the four hours of showing her goods to the entire villain community SHE'D had to endure last year, but Kim liked to think that she DID have a shred or two of decency left…

And besides, she just couldn't wait for the final punch.

Shego had been dialing frantically on the phone, trying to get Drakken… who obviously wasn't answering any of his real numbers because HE was somewhere trying to have his little Drewbie de-flowered… when Kim finally switched her vocoder back to 'Dr. Drakken' mode and 'answered' Shego's latest desperate call via Wade's wireless cellular wizardry.

"Dr. Lipsky speaking," Kim replied in a flawless reproduction of Drakken's speech and dialect patters while the vocoder finished the impersonation by modifiying her tones to that of the Bluebird of Paradumbass. "How may I help you?"

"DRAKKEN YOU ##### ##### ##### MOTHER'S HEAD ###### ##### ###### ##### HOW #### ##### ###### ##### HEAD ##### ##### CHANGE ###### ##### OR I'LL ##### YOUR ##### WITH A BALL PEEN HAMMER, YOU #### #### #####, NOW #### ####### BACK RIGHT ####### NOW, YOU ###### ###### ######!"

"Er… are you looking in a mirror right now Shego?" Kim barely kept her impression in check, since she was actually watching Shego and knew she was right in front of the big mirror.

"##### #### ##### ####### ###### ###### yes ##### sink ####### damn it!"

"In that case…" Kim pressed the remote switch that activated the hidden message she'd left on the mirror at almost the same instant that she toggled the kill-switch on the melanoma shaped micro-holo projector patch that she'd slipped on her girlfriend's back during yesterday's session of slap and tickle.

So, as Shego's face suddenly returned to normal and she almost screamed in relief, she was simultaneously confronted with the twelve inch letters scrawled across the mirror in electrostatically activated orange paint.

"DON'T FUCK WITH THE GREAT PUMPKIN, BITCH!"

And the thought of Shego's face as she had read that was enough to cause Kim to collapse in a new fit of delirious giggles. Damn, being this evil had been fun, because, as the song said as she got back to her feet and began to do a bump and grind to her own wickedness…

_People know just what they'd like to do, __  
__Whatever it is, you've got it, 'long as it pleases you. __  
__Make it last as long as you can, __  
__When you're through it's up to you to try it again_

_Go on and do it, do it, __  
__Do it 'til you're satisfied, __  
__Whatever it is, do it…_

The urgent beeping of her Kimmunicator suddenly pulled her out of the moment. Had Wade managed to drop the bomb with Senor Senior Senior and inform him that Junior really hadn't tried to kill him? That should have been the only loose end to clean up… well, besides returning the chapsticks.

What she wasn't expecting was the look of total panic on Wade's face.

"Kim! Get out of there! Get out of there now! Global Justice has issued a sanction on y…"

"KIM POSSIBLE!" An impossibly loud voice nearly shattered her eardrums as an entire wall of her apartment suddenly blew apart in a haze of plaster dust and flying timber. "BY THE AUTHORITY OF GLOBAL JUSTICE, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST! DO NOT RESIST AND YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED! MUCH!"

Staggering backwards, Kim found herself coughing up a noxious mix of vanilla-beige wall paint, vaporized plasterboard and burning insulation as a dozen Global Justice goons in full riot gear stormed into what was left of her home, each carrying a massive GJ Combination Taser/Automatic Rifle/Grenade Launcher equipped with red spotter scopes that were ALL forming a little nest of red bees in the center of her chest.

It was a really good thing she had just peed.

Inside her brain, Kim was running though alternatives rapidly… unfortunately, except for one, they all seemed to end up with either a lot of wounded GJ Agents and herself on the run from an alliance of international forces, or a Kim Possible who wasn't going to have to worry about retaining water or any other kinds of fluids at any time of the month anymore.

Helplessly, she found herself raising her hands above her head.

"I'm sorry Kim," Wade's voice spoke tinnily from the battered Kimmunicator on the floor. "We were running so many communication channels while running the pranks that I only just…"

"That will be ENOUGH, Mr. Load," Betty Director snapped as two of her stormtroopers stepped just enough aside to let her through. "We will deal with YOUR part in this fiasco later, but for now be glad that your status as a minor means a ten year prison sentence at worst."

"Prison!" the tiny face gasped.

"Indeed," Betty scowled, looking around the room and at Kim's underwear clad form. "Do you have any idea of the havoc you two idiots have just set off?"

Not waiting for an answer, Betty supplied her own. "This past year has been the lowest for supervillain incidents since the formation of Global Justice. Dr. Drakken's re-integration into society alone was responsible for a thirty percent reduction in Filed Ultimatums and Known Conquest Attempts. THIRTY PERCENT! And what do you think he's doing right now, after a certain micro-brained ex-cheerleader just sent him back on a trip to cuckooland?"

Kim cringed. Oh God, Dr. Director was right! What in the hell had she been thinking, stirring up the wasps' nests?

Betty saw the cringe. "Oh yes, now you see. What a pity that wasn't BEFORE you set DNAmy, Duff Killigan and Motor Ed all suddenly spending their covert funds like the world was about to end! Before Monkey Fist broke into the London Zoo to liberate his Monkey Ninjas and came out with the entire contents of the primate house AND an otter! And we don't even know what the hell kind of chaos you set loose in Henchco, but when Frugal Lucre is suddenly spending money, that can only mean an escalation of FUKCA's up to unprecedented levels! You and your stupid pranks may have launched Armageddon!

"Doctor, I…" Kim began.

"SHUT IT POSSIBLE!" The head of Global Justice screamed. "You've blown it! You're gone! History!"

Struggling to pull herself back under control, the one eyed woman finally managed to speak in a level tone to the flinching ex-heroine.

"Prior to today, we gave you the benefit of the doubt… let you carry out your little vigilante games without interference because you seemed to be doing more good than harm. But that was when we thought you were as pure and innocent as you pretended to be. And after we received that little present from your girlfriend, that reputation is as gone as your virginity."

"Wait…" Kim back tracked. "Present? What do you…"

"You mean you don't even know yet?" Betty shook her head. "Did you think you could prank a supervillain and not expect payback? Although, I have to admit, I didn't expect you to have given her such an easy weapon… but then again, it's obvious that I never really knew you at all."

Reaching into a pocket on her jumpsuit, Dr. Director pulled out a small folded piece of card stock, then held it up so that Kim could see the outside.

Kim's heart ruptured… that was the only way to describe what she felt as she looked at the image of herself as the "Great Pumpkin," naked and ball-gagged, legs spread and a candle up her hoo haa, with ALL of the other villains and a generous number of Henchmen standing behind her, grinning broadly and flashing the V for Victory sign… except that about half of them were holding their 'v's in front of their mouths and flicking their tongues through them. It was a hell of a front of what was obviously a Halloween card, and the caption 'We've all seen the GREAT Pumpkin!' was only the final stinger.

But Shego had said that every camera that had left Drakken's lair had been erased, that no one could have sent a…

"THAT FUCKING BITCH!" Kim screamed, dropping to her knees. Shego had never erased the pictures in her OWN camera because they had never left the Lair! "That fucking evil…"

"Don't be the pot calling the kettle black, Kimberly," Dr. Director sighed. "I always suspected that the two of you were birds of a feather. This was merely the proof. Unfortunately, its proof that was sent to 15,000 addresses, including almost every federal and international law enforcement agency on the planet, your entire graduating class and all of your relatives out thru your third cousins… this copy was provided to us by your Nana, by the way."

Kim was curling in on herself, trying to shut it all out, but it was so obvious how she'd been set up. How she'd just been completely destroyed.

"Oh, and it gets worse," Dr. Director continued as she pulled another piece of paper out of her pocket and began reading: "Kimberly Ann Possible, as a result of your actions today, Global Justice has been forced to declare you a class Omega threat. After a fair trial at which you WILL be found guilty, you will be sentenced to a minimum of three life terms at a GJ internment facility for super-criminals on the moon. There will be no option for parole. There will be no shortening of the sentence. You are simply too dangerous to allow back among your fellow human beings."

"But…" Kim whispered softly, "But I have to fix what I…"

"Or…" Dr. Director continued as if uninterrupted.

"What?" Kim begged. "I'll do anything!"

"There is ONE way," the Doctor admitted, pausing as if she couldn't even believe she was about to say this.

Because it was even worse.

"All of these villains have been set in motion by one thing, Kim. You. And everything they're going to do is because they want revenge against you. And they won't stop until they feel that need for revenge has been slaked in the blood of thousands, maybe millions, of innocents."

Kim shuddered, but she knew it was true. It was all on her head.

"However," Dr. Director hypothesized. "Our psychoanalysts believe that it's possible that we might be able to neutralize that anger… get them to back down… IF they felt you had already paid a sufficient price."

Kim's eyes turned up to meet the Doctor's single dark orb.

"The ultimate price," Dr. Director confirmed darkly.

Kim stared back, not believing what she'd just heard but… finding truth in the very blackness of the words.

It would work. No one would seek revenge against Kim Possible… if there was no Kim Possible to seek revenge against.

And as much as she wanted to live, if she could never be a hero again, if the only choice was living a life in isolation unable to do anything to undo the nightmares she might have unleashed…

She'd rather be a hero one last time.

"Do it," Kim heard her own voice whispering.

"Get a video camera," Dr. Director ordered. "It has to be documented."

"I… I'm recording…" A shaky voiced Wade suddenly spoke.

"Not good enough," Dr. Director replied, then was rewarded as yet another GJ Agent entered the room with a camera. "Ah, here we are. Simpson… you've always taken the best shots at the costume parties."

"I've got it ma'am. Framed and rolling."

"For what it's worth," Kim stammered around a dry mouth, one tear trickling down her cheek. "I'm sorry. And I understand why… just… don't let my parents see this."

"Please hold still Kim," Dr. Director spoke softly as she raised her personal sidearm and brought it up to Kim's temple. "It'll be painless."

"I won't flinch," Kim replied grimly. "Anything's Possible for a…"

Dr. Director fired. Kim felt the wave of heat hit the side of her head and waited for the final darkness.

It never came.

Instead Dr. Director reached down to the corner of her neck and pulled off the Betty Director mask that had obscured Shego's face.

"Gotcha Pumpkin!"

Kim gaped up as a the green woman cupped Kim's chin with one hand… the other still trailing residual wisps of the low-heat plasma she'd just fired in an arc around Kim's head… as her beautiful green face snaked down to kiss Kim on the cheek.

"The thing is, Princess, that you know the one thing I can't resist is a challenge and I LIKE fucking with Pumpkins."

Which, as it happens, is how they spent the rest of the day and most of the night, once it was demonstrated that the card in question was, in fact, the only one, and that all of the 'GJ Agents' were Synthodrones who would soon have their memories erased.

Of course, even as Kim and Shego expressed their odd attraction to, and affection for, each other in some rather bizarre ways… some involving a modified weed-whacker… each knew that behind each other's smile… behind that knowing look that danced behind the eyes of their perfect soul mate… they were each already plotting what they would do NEXT year.

#################################D

"Ma'am?" Will Du asked in sudden puzzlement. "I just noticed that these sums that are being moved around by the villains? They're not for villainous type stuff… in fact, Drakken seems to be investing in a chain of flower shops, DNAmy is just buying an upgraded security grid and Killigan just hired Greg Norman to give him golf lessons.

"Uh huh," Dr. Director smiled. "I was wondering when you'd catch on to that."

"But… but… the Omega Sanction on Possible?"

"Was to put the fear of God into a certain Mr. Load… as well as a convenient excuse to use our agents to locate Kim and make sure that Shego and her team of Synthodrones could get to her as quickly as possible." Betty smiled. "When you have squabbling children, sometimes it's best just to let them work things out between themselves on their own."

"But…" Will was stymied. "If there's no emergency… then why are we even still here?"

"Because," Betty grinned, pulling open her jumpsuit to reveal that she STILL wasn't wearing any underwear, "You never know when something might come up and…"

"I could really go for another hot dog."

Which was ALMOST the last loose end to be dealt with… and dealt with rather impressively it was… but there was ONE last thing.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUR FATHER CUT YOU OFF?"

"Bonita? BONITA? Please let me in! It is cold and I think it is about to rain soon! BONITA?"

_THE END (Until NEXT Halloween, anyway_

_)_################################D

_**Legal stuff:**__ Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Rufus, Shego, Dr. Drakken, Dr. Director, Will Du, Monkey Fist, the Monkey Ninjas, Cuddlebuddies, DNAmy, Motor Ed, Camille Leon, Duff Killigan, Jack Hench, Bonnie Rockwaller and Nana Possible are all borrowed from the wonderful KP Universe, are the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and are trademarks of the Disney media organizations. Lyrics for "DO IT (Till You're Satisfied) written by Billy Nichols and performed by B.T. Express, property of Scepter Records (link for video on my profile page, lyrics printed above are just about all there is. It's Disco, whaddya expect? ) All use should be considered fair under current parody law, and is not for profit in any case. This story takes place at a time at which all characters shown should be considered to be over the legal age of 18. Also, Tricks instead of treats is very naughty, and the author of this fic in no way condones the act of messing with super-villains. _


	4. Bonus Chapter:  What Ron SAW!

_AN: What? A FOURTH CHAPTER? Yep! Just a bonus treat! HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Legal at bottom. _

#############################D

**THE GREAT PUMPKIN STRIKES BACK**

by SHADO Commander

Bonus Chapter 4 (of 3) – **What Ron SAW**

###############################D

Ron stepped out of the small kitchen of his one bedroom apartment, his arms loaded with two bags of chips and two 32 oz bottles of Go-Kola. The Zombiethon was about to start, and except for the occasional run to heed the call of nature, the Ron-man was going to see all 12 hours of it!

With a satisfied sigh, he sat down next to Rufus on the giant comfy chair that was the only nice piece of furniture in his 'living room' besides the giant big screen he had purchased for a fraction of it's original value when the model had been discontinued by Smarty-Mart. Sure, the color was slightly off and made everyone look a bit like Shego, but it was still grade A awesome. His Mom and Dad had always been perfectly satisfied with their ancient 26 inch console TV that had been crafted by cavemen using rocks and saber-toothed tiger skulls, so having his own personal 'theater' was one of the big perks of moving out. Along with not having to wear pants if he didn't feel like it or bringing home girls (if he was lucky.)

Of course, to be fair, moving out of his parent's house DID have its drawbacks, not the least of which was the lack of free maid and dinner service. Fortunately Ron was one of those people who truly enjoyed cooking and when it wasn't possible to take his dirty items back home for a 'visit,' the money he saved on not eating out quite as often was more than enough to pay for a very nice laundry service that took the wadded up items he sent them and miraculously returned them in the form of clean, pressed clothes. And unlike at his parents house, here it was perfectly acceptable to let those same articles of clothing lay on the floor for days at a time.

In fact, the truth was that there really were very few things that Ron regretted about where he was in life. He'd even come to terms with the fact that he and Kim as a couple would have been a very, very bad idea… he still considered the redhead to be his closest and dearest friend, of course, but every friendship had its limits and Ron had found his when it came to the idea of whipping her or letting her drip hot candlewax all over his body.

And yet, all of that said, there were certain things he just wasn't allowed to do anymore that did leave him a bit bummed out.

Like trick or treating.

Right now, children and teenagers all across Middleton were donning their costumes and preparing for a night of crazed candy-collecting celebration, and Ron longed to be out there in the darkness with them. Why? It wasn't so much that Ron couldn't afford to buy his own candy or enjoyed stumbling around in the dark in mask filled with the smell of his own breath, it was just that he loved the randomness of the result… of just reaching into the bowl of candy he'd collected and never knowing exactly what might come out next.

Fortunately Kim understood how he felt and had given him a big bag of 'mystery candy,' a random assortment that he had poured out in a big bowl beside the chair as he and Rufus prepared to watch the all night horror thriller marathon. It wasn't trick or treating, but it promised to be a good substitute.

Speaking of which, he thought, reaching into the huge bowl and pulling out a… oooh! A Mint Go-Bar!

"Aarhem!" Said a small voice at his shoulder. Not his conscience, of course, but something much better, his OTHER best friend in the world, Rufus.

"Oh yeah, sure," Ron grinned and pulled out a second piece of candy, a Cherry Twazzler, and held the two pieces out for Rufus to pick the one he preferred. After careful deliberation, Rufus chose the Twazzler and the two of them settled back for a long night of zombies, werewolves and non-sparkly vampires.

Except… when he hit the remote to change the channels to KMID's horrorfest, something seemed wrong. Strange… it had been working earlier, and the channel indicator was still showing the channels changing… it just seemed like every station had the same show on. A channel that had a suspiciously familiar face on it…

"Hello Ronald," said the obscene little puppet called Jigzaw. "We're going to play a game."

"AAaaaaaaaaa!" Rufus squeaked even as Ron vocalized the same scream.

"I suppose you're wondering what's going on?" The face on the screen asked. "Well, I hate to tell you this Ronald, but… there won't be any horror movies tonight."

The puppet stopped, then… was it a trick of the light… grinned evilly. "Well, not the kind of horror movies you LIKE anyway. You see, I've rewired your cable system so that every channel goes to a special feed I set up, so what you'll be viewing tonight are videos from your friend Kim's Nana's vacation. She went to the beach with her seniors' group this year, so there'll be a lot of swimming scenes but… well, it was a seniors only resort."

If there was one thing Ron had learned in all his years with Kim, it was to act quickly. Before the puppet's words had even fully registered, he began hitting the power-off button on the remote. But now nothing worked at all! How…?

"In case you're wondering," the puppet continued onscreen, "The reason your remote is suddenly not working is that all it's actually been controlling for the last several days is an infra-red repeater box that converts the commands it receives to the frequencies that now actually control your set. However, I've just turned the repeater box off so about the only way your remote will do anything now is if you throw it at the off switch… or at least, it WOULD have had I not also already disabled the manual control panel on the set itself. To quote the old TV show: I control the horizontal, I control the vertical, and there's one more thing I control…"

"And that Ronald," the puppet giggled as Ron found himself suddenly pulled WAY down into his comfy chair. "Is your butt."

Ron was now officially freaking. No matter how hard he tried to move himself, some invisible force kept pulling him back down… and the awkweird squeek and strange postures Rufus was making indicated that he was having the same problem. But how was Jigzaw doing this…? Controlling the TV was just a clever application of basic electronics, but this was impossible… if not supernatural.

"The answer," the puppet supplied, "Is magnetism. There's a huge super-magnet directly under your chair. And that candy you've been gobbling down? It's all been laced with a combination of rare-earth magnets that are quite non-toxic, but basically form the equivalent of a large metal plate inside you. If you're a third of the way through the bag, you now have about four hundred pounds of force holding you to the chair while Rufus has about twenty. You're not going anywhere for a long while, Ronald, which is why I waited until you had your big drink and chips next to the chair before I pulled the switch."

Ron glanced at the bowl and winced. He'd eaten over half the candy already, so that made… what, SIX hundred pounds of force? "But why…?"

Onscreen, the puppet sighed. "Don't you watch the movies Ronald? It must be something that you've done… but that's beside the point. Don't you want to know what the game is?"

Realizing that he was ultimately going to have to ask no matter what, Ron just nodded.

"Very good Ronald. Very good indeed. As you've no doubt surmised, I have a camera watching you. But it's not just any camera, you see. It's one that was made for marketing firms for the purpose of analyzing viewer responses to commercials. Together with the special software that runs the system, it can track every movement of your iris and every blink of your eye. And the game we're going to play Ronald, is called "Don't Blink." That's because the average person blinks once every five seconds, but to win the game you'll have to blink at a fraction of that rate… once every fifteen seconds. If you blink faster than that, the video rewinds by one minute for every blink above the allowed rate. That's important to know, because the magnet in your chair will only turn off once the video reaches the end. Completely shut your eyes or look away, and the software will rewind the videos by five minutes. Is that all understood?"

"Y.. yes," Ron stammered. He could do this. Of course he could. It was just vacation videos, right?

"Oh," The puppet replied as if reading his mind, "There's one more thing I should mention. This trip Nana Possible and her senior group went on? Were you aware that Kim's grandmother was a nudist?"

"NO!" Screamed Ron in horror.

#######################D

"Geez, Princess," Shego giggled, taking a break from providing the voice for 'Jigzaw.' "Did you really set up ALL of that stuff, or is some of it a bluff?"

"Oh, the videos are real, though thankfully Nana never gave her camera to someone else to take a picture of HER," Kim grinned from across the monitoring van that was parked down the streen, "And the tech is all real too. Of course, what Ron doesn't know is that it's me, since he'd know I really wouldn't make him sit there all night… though I AM going to give him at least thirty minutes or so of looking at Nana's prunelike friends before we cut him free and turn on the DVR so that he can watch the parts of the shows that he missed on a delay."

"Nice," Shego smirked. "Now tell me again what this is that you've got set up for "Stevey'?"

The former cheerleader's face creased into a truly Machiavellian smile, "Oh, I think Mr. Barkin's reaction will be QUITE worth the effort it took to have a synthodrone of him made. You see, when he get's home from substituting, he'll find out that someone else who looks just like him will have moved into his house and be sitting in his living room, reading his paper and drinking his…"

_THE END? _

################################D

_**Legal stuff:** Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Rufus, Shego, Steve Barkin, Nana Possible and Mr. & Mrs. Stoppable are all borrowed from the wonderful KP Universe, are the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and are trademarks of the Disney media organizations. All use should be considered fair under current parody law, and is not for profit in any case. This story takes place at a time at which all characters shown should be considered to be over the legal age of 18. _


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